


"Are you serious?"

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [24]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Appreciation of Mycroft's Arse, Don't Post To Another Site, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Gaslighting, Greg Lestrade to the Rescue, M/M, Mycroft forgets he has friends, Protective Greg, mycroft needs help, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28692873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: Anthea's away and the PA filling in isn't what he appears. Mycroft is at his wit's end. Luckily, Greg is there to help him out, because that's what friends do. And sometimes along the way they become more than friends. ;)
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862299
Comments: 25
Kudos: 195





	"Are you serious?"

Greg couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you serious?” He asked. “Mycroft Holmes?”

“Boss, I saw him with my own eyes being brought in,” Donovan confirmed. “I overheard the booking officer say he’d been found hiding in his neighbor's bushes. He looked terrible,” she murmured. “He’s usually so posh and, you know…” She trailed off.

“Yeah, I know,” Greg mumbled. He did know. Lord have mercy, he knew. Right now though, he needed to find out what was going on. “Find out where they’ve put him and the officer in charge,” he ordered.

“Holding Cell 4. Detective Sergeant Morris has the file,” Donovan promptly supplied.

Greg rewarded her with a smile. “Damn, I’m going to miss you when you make DI.”

* * *

Peeking through the cell door window, Greg could see Mycroft perched on the bench across the room, his knees up against his chest and arms wrapped around them. Greg heart squeezed. Mycroft’s suit was rumpled and there were bits of twigs and leaves clinging to his trousers. His skin was paler than usual and his hair was greasy and uncombed.

“Mycroft?” Greg called as he opened the door.

“Lestrade?” Mycroft lifted his head, dark circles rimmed his bright and glittering eyes.

Greg cocked his head toward the open hallway behind him. “C’mon. I’m getting you out of here.”

Two hours later Mycroft was sitting on Greg’s sofa. He was freshly showered and wearing a pair of Greg’s track bottoms and a sweatshirt. They didn’t quite fit, but it was better than the grimy dress shirt and suit.

“Cuppa?” Greg asked as he poured water from the kettle into his mug. “Or something stronger?”

“Tea, please,” Mycroft replied.

Greg nodded and prepared another mug. “So, Let me get this straight. Anthea’s in Belize on holiday, and the sub covering for her is a double agent?” Greg spoke as he carried the tea out. He handed a mug to Mycroft, and sat at the end of the sofa, angled so he could see Mycroft.

Mycroft held the mug in both hands, staring blankly ahead. “Yes, We have a critical summit coming up and Ethan Crosswell has been sabotaging my preparations. He’s been trying to gaslight me for the past week and half. I suspect he’s a double agent.”

Greg raised his eyebrows. “Gaslight _you_?”

Mycroft sighed. “It’s not your intelligence, that comes under attack. It’s your sanity.”

Greg grunted in agreement.

“He has access to my office, my club, and my home, like Anthea, so it's not been hard for him to make me feel off-balance and uncertain. Little things went missing from my desk and closet, then reappeared. Completed reports were being turned in late to my colleagues. He fed me misinformation, nothing terribly important, but all in all it’s been enough to make me appear unready and ill-informed.” Mycroft’s grip on his mug had tightened. He took a sip of tea and sat the mug down. “The list goes on.”

“So why were you in the neighbor’s bushes?” Greg asked.

“I was trying to evade him. I told him I had a personal engagement tonight, and hoped to wait him out in Mrs. Thackery’s hedge, but Roscoe, her corgi, ratted me out.”

Greg touched Mycroft’s knee, causing Mycroft to look at him. “Did it ever occur to you to call me or even your brother?”

Mycroft blinked, surprised. “No, it didn’t.”

Greg shook his head. “I’m going to let that slide,” he said. “Look, from what I understand you shouldn’t be alone with someone who's gaslighting you.”

Mycroft nodded.

Greg thought a moment. “When does Anthea return?”

“In two days, just before the summit starts.”

“If you trust me, I have a plan.”

* * *

It was about one o’clock in the morning when Greg pulled up in front of Mycroft’s home. He looked at the townhome and noted the lights illuminating the second floor. He glanced at Mycroft, chewing on his thumbnail, in the passenger seat, back in his rumpled suit. The dirt, twigs, and leaves they’d managed to brush out. “Think he’s up there?”

“Yes.” Mycroft shuddered.

“Ready?”

Mycroft took a deep breath. “Yes.” He reached for the door handle.

“Hang on,” Greg’s voice stopped him. “We have to make this convincing.”

“Wha—“ Mycroft was interrupted by Greg mouth landing on his own, kissing him urgently.

Mycroft responded in kind, hardly hesitating to return the passionate kiss. Greg could feel the rasp of Mycroft’s stubble against his chin. He reached over and cupped the back of Mycroft’s head. Gently tugging the hair to tilt Mycroft’s head back, exposing the long, pale neck. Greg moved his mouth, kissing along Mycroft’s jaw. Traveling down Mycroft’s neck, he found a soft, tender spot and sucked, hard.

“Ahh…” Mycroft groaned.

Greg gave the spot a loving lick and sat back. “Now we’re ready.” He gave Mycroft a bright grin. Mycroft slowly returned the smile, and Greg could see it was one of his rare genuine smiles.

Mycroft let them into the house. When the door shut, he playfully pushed Greg against the door and snogged him thoroughly. “Entryway camera”, he whispered as he nipped and licked Greg’s ear.

Greg hummed and pulled Mycroft’s hips against his own, pleased to feel Mycroft’s erection, hard and long, press into his thigh.

They were both lost in the moment, when they heard a discreet cough nearby. Mycroft disengaged his mouth from Greg’s neck and briefly rested his forehead on Greg’s shoulder, before turning to face his nemesis.

“Ethan. I didn’t expect you to still be here. I told you I had plans.”

“Yes, you did,” the man confirmed. “But I was worried. Your tracking device stopped working. I tried texting and calling, but you didn’t answer.” Ethan almost sounded like a parent scolding a child. “There was a disturbance next door.”

Mycroft shifted and Greg could see the person causing Mycroft such grief. He was short and slender, fine boned and blond. He had a sharp nose and small, dark eyes. He resembled the weasel he was.

“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

Greg hummed loudly in agreement.

“Stop it, you,” Mycroft playfully chided Greg and swatted the man’s chest. Greg nuzzled into Mycroft’s neck and nipped along his jawline in response. Mycroft giggled.

“Yes, of course.” Ethan looked very uncomfortable. 

“No need for you to stay any longer,” Mycroft said, to Ethan.

“Yeah, you can go, son,” Greg chimed in. “I’ve got everything in hand.” He gave Mycroft’s arse a squeeze, causing Mycroft to squirm.

Ethan nodded. “No, of course. I’ll just grab my coat.” He opened the coat closet and snatched his coat. “I’ll just…” he gestured to the door, blocked by Mycroft and Greg.

“Oh, yes…” Mycroft grabbed Greg’s hand and tugged him off the door.

Ethan paused at the door. “Will you be in later today or shall I come here?”

“I’ll be In today…” Mycroft replied.

“My…” Greg whined.

“This afternoon,” Mycroft amended. He caught sight of Greg’s pout. “Maybe. I'll let you know when you'll be needed.”

“Right, umm… yes.” Ethan stood at the door.

Greg reached over and opened it. “Ta, mate.” Ethan stepped through, then turned to say something else, but it was lost as Greg shut the door firmly in the man’s face.

“There you go.” Greg turned to Mycroft. “Now, I’m going to stick to you like glue until Anthea returns.” He settled his hands possessively on Mycroft’s waist.

Mycroft wound his arms around Greg’s neck. “My hero. How ever can I repay you?”

“Oh I can think of a few ways,” Greg whispered softly, before capturing one of many more sweet kisses from Mycroft.


End file.
